


She's Got a Boyfriend, Anyway

by smiley_seulgi



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 08:41:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14733695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smiley_seulgi/pseuds/smiley_seulgi
Summary: Seulgi and Irene are together in aspects of the word. But Irene's got a boyfriend, anyway.





	She's Got a Boyfriend, Anyway

Seulgi doesn’t know when all of this started exactly, when they began to sneak out of class to make out in the bathroom instead of learning how to calculate polynomials and vectors, or when Irene began giving her rides home so they could drive off to the city limits to make love in the back of Irene’s car before it got too dark to make the excuse about staying after school for a project.

 

They’ve become just a big, scrambled mess of well kept secrets and love affairs that have been going on since as long as she can remember, so she doesn’t remember when they began, but Seulgi does remember the first time they kissed. It probably should have felt wrong when Irene’s mouth met hers and her bubblegum colored fingernails curled delicately around the back of her neck, but it felt like heaven was dancing on the tip of Irene’s tongue, so Seulgi opened her mouth and kissed her back like Irene was the last thing on earth she wanted to taste.

 

She didn’t even feel regretful after. And how could she when that gorgeous smile rippled over Irene’s face before the girl leaned in to kiss her again? He didn’t even enter Seulgi’s mind until there was the echo of approaching footsteps booming down the hallway like the sound of death, and the quickened bursts of heartbeats slowing down to a snail’s pace.

 

And Irene pulled away as if Seulgi’s mouth had been on fire, their lips making the softest sound as they parted, and the look shining in Irene’s glittering eyes almost looked as if she was sorry she’d kissed Seulgi in the first place before she turned away to smile innocently up at her boyfriend. 

 

But that’s the thing, Irene wasn’t sorry. Or at least if she was, she didn’t show it. Because the next day, while Seulgi walked into the bathroom during lunch to wash her hands after eating a particularly messy burrito from the cafeteria, Irene stepped out of one of the stalls.

 

And when Seulgi looked up into that mirror to meet the gaze trained on the back of her neck, all she could see was the hunger dominating Irene’s eyes, and she knew she was in for more than she’d expected when she walked into that room. Before Seulgi could form a sentence to say or suck in a breath, she was being pulled into the stall and shoved against the wall with such force that it shook the plastic all the way down to the floor.

 

Irene pressed deliciously against her with her mouth attached to Seulgi’s snowy neck, and Seulgi forgot why. Irene wasn’t sorry because she was kissing Seulgi like her life depended on it, as if there was only a minute left for them on earth and she only wanted to spend it kissing Seulgi, only wanted to remember this as her last moment on the face of the planet.

 

She was kissing Seulgi as if she didn’t have a boyfriend, who was no doubt waiting for her at their lunch table at that very moment for her to come back, she was kissing Seulgi like she loved Seulgi, and maybe that was what would hurt the most. The moment their lips met again, Seulgi knew Irene would hurt her.

 

In all of the perfectness of their kiss and the feelings bursting through her veins like flowers budding in spring, Seulgi knew Irene would hurt her. And she was willing to get hurt, maybe because she’d never felt anything like she was now before Irene, or maybe because she wanted to prove to Irene that she was better than her stupid boyfriend.

 

Mainly because of the first reason, but a good portion of her reasoning was because of the second, as well. No way did that bumbling boy of a quarterback for the school football team deserved the elegant and graceful Irene, he didn’t cherish her enough.

 

Or maybe he did, but he couldn’t cherish her like Seulgi could. Her heart was a garden, and right now there were red roses in full bloom, spreading their roots through her veins, reddening her cheeks with the deepest blushes as Irene whispered she would take her home today.

 

And then she was gone, leaving Seulgi’s neck tingling with the sensation of Irene’s lips dancing across her skin and her mouth radiating with the taste of the other girl’s sweet Chapstick.

 

She was left breathless and panting, her head against the stall wall and her heart aching for more.

 

So this is love.

 

Seulgi takes a moment to fix her hair, giggling as she does so, and then steps out of the bathroom as if nothing ever happened.

 

The first thing Seulgi learns about Irene is that when she’s mad at her boyfriend, she calls her and only her, but not for the reason she expects. When she arrives at Irene’s door step, nervous and jittery as if it’s their first date and wearing a pair of jeans and a long sleeve button down, Irene opens the door and Seulgi chokes on her breath.

 

Nobody wears a translucent t-shirt and a black lacy bra for innocent intentions during winter, and Seulgi feels an instant heat surround her that makes her forget why she came in the first place. And when Irene holds her hand as they make their way up the staircase to Irene’s room, Seulgi looks at the curve of her slender body and knows no boy will ever make her feel the way she does about this girl, not ever in her life. 

 

The second thing Seulgi discovers is that Irene is allowed to give to Seulgi, but Seulgi’s not allowed to give to Irene. After Seulgi comes down the first time, after her legs shake and her fingers grasp blindly at the sheets because there’s stars blackening her vision and the only thing she can see is Irene’s eyes as they pour into her from the space in between her thighs, she flips them over.

 

And before she can even start foreplay, Irene’s wriggled out from beneath her, grinning ear to ear and running a hand down Seulgi’s bare back.

 

“You can only take what I give you, sweetie.”

 

Seulgi can start to feel her embarrassment blooming in her cheeks, but then Irene turns her on her side and snuggles into her back with her arms hooking around Seulgi’s bare waist, whispering, “Goodnight.” And that makes everything alright. When Seulgi wakes up, it’s Saturday morning, she’s naked underneath the sheets of Irene’s bed feeling more satisfied than she’s ever felt before, and Irene’s lingering in the doorway.

 

She’s wearing Seulgi’s button down shirt over her black lace set of underwear, and Seulgi’s shirt looks so good when it’s just hanging off her back it nearly drives her over the edge again, and Irene’s looking at her as if she’s the only person in the world. “I made breakfast,” she murmurs with her eyes raking Seulgi up and down, her voice soft but her gaze strong before she saunters out of the room. 

 

She leaves Seulgi with warming cheeks and ears, scrambling for something to wear. She doesn’t know it yet, but she would be spending nearly every Friday at Irene’s house, not that it bothered her, of course. Seulgi would’ve snuck out at three am if it meant seeing Irene again. 

 

Seulgi sits in the back of the cafe, her laptop on the table, a half empty cup of coffee steaming next to a warmed chocolate chip scone, doing research for some paper in English. She doesn’t notice when Irene and her boyfriend first walk in, but she does when Irene slides into the seat across from her with effortless grace and an adorable smile playing across her face.

 

“Hi, Seulgi.”

 

And her tone is friendly, but her eyes are anything but as they narrow in seduction, and Seulgi’s hands start to feel clammy as Irene’s boyfriend sits down next to her. Envy, maybe. Jealousy. Spite. Seulgi couldn’t even look him in the eye when Irene introduced him to her.

 

His handshake made her feel like she was getting run over by a car. Was this some kind of cruel joke? She was just about ready to make an excuse to leave when his cell phone rang. He answers, and Irene’s hand slides up Seulgi’s thigh from underneath the table, and suddenly she’s not mad anymore. She’s just trying to keep her face straight and her back straighter. 

 

He gets up to leave a few minutes later and apologizes to Irene because “Something at work’s popped up and they need me.” When he walks out of the cafe and disappars from sight, Irene gets up and sits next to Seulgi. Their thighs brush underneath the table and it’s like Seulgi’s back in Irene’s bed again.

 

And even though her boyfriend’s gone, there’s still the lingering scent of his cologne on Irene’s clothes, and it makes Seulgi feel sick to her stomach. One hand curls around the inside of Seulgi’s thigh while the other cups her chin as Irene leans in to whisper, “Come with me.”

 

And when she tries to pull Seulgi out of the booth, Seulgi remains rooted to the spot because as much as she wants to go with her, she can’t stop remembering how he looked at her, she can’t stop imagining how many times he’s kissed her. But Irene doesn’t give up. She sits back down and runs her fingers over Seulgi’s jeans slowly, her lips tickling the shell of Seulgi’s ear.

 

“Use my spare time, sweetie.” Her voice is low and urgent, “I haven’t got much of it.” 

 

When Wendy first finds out, Seulgi’s halfway finished with her second beer and her third shot glass. Earlier that day, she’d seen Irene kiss him goodbye in the parking lot, so she’d ducked out of view and walked home with the flowers in her heart wilting.

 

Twenty-one texts and fourteen calls from Irene later, Seulgi leaves her phone at home and asks Wendy to take her to a bar. Wendy doesn’t ask what’s wrong when Seulgi slumps shotgun on the ride downtown, but she does bring fake IDs and sweet talks the man standing outside to give them a private room.

 

“I’m in love with Irene,” Seulgi laughs, as if it were some hilarious joke instead of a heartbreaking love story. Wendy shakes her head and pushes the beer away from her friend, “There’s no way you two are gonna last.” She leads Seulgi out of the room and back to her car, with her eyes glistening in tears for her friend. This wasn’t going to end well.

 

“Just forget about her,” Wendy whispers as she buckles Seulgi in. “She’s got a boyfriend, anyway.” 

 

When Seulgi walks into class that Tuesday morning, Irene is waiting for her. Before she even stepped foot into school that morning, she knew Irene was waiting for her. The moment she enters their classroom, she spots Irene sitting in her desk, arms and legs crossed.

 

“Where were you yesterday?” Seulgi sits down like there’s hundred pound weights on her shoulders. She kissed him back, she kissed him back. Irene’s eyes burn holes into the side of her skull.

 

“I waited half an hour after school ended for you.” Seulgi unzips her backpack and sets her Pre-Calc binder on her desk and pretends to work on the homework she’s checked for the fiftieth time already. He kissed her, and she kissed back. “I texted you,” Irene continues from the desk next to her, “I called you.”

 

There’s only minutes before the bell rings, but they seem to tick slower than an hour passing. When the bell finally rings, Seulgi allows herself to look at the other girl and she’s shocked at what she finds. 

 

Irene doesn’t seem as put together today as she usually does. Her makeup is a little messily done, and her hair isn’t all the way dry from her morning shower. Her shirt isn’t tucked in all the way. There are bags under her eyes. Suddenly, Seulgi feels more than guilty.

 

She feels awful, the feeling is present in the pit of her stomach like a seed from a fruit, and she gets up. Seulgi drags Irene outside towards the direction of the bathroom. There, in the quiet of the empty stalls, she fixes Irene’s shirt and redoes her makeup with extreme tenderness.

 

When she caps her tube of mascara, finished, Irene blinks up at her, and Seulgi bends down to kiss her softly. “I’m so sorry,” she murmurs. “It’s okay,” Irene breathes, delving her tongue into Seulgi’s mouth, “but only if you come home with me every day this week.” Seulgi thinks it’s funny that all they seem to do is talk about sex, but she agrees anyway because that’s exactly what their relationship revolves around. 

 

Another week passes before Seulgi gets jealous again. This time, she’s been invited to a movie as the third wheel, because the only other people coming are Irene and her stupid boyfriend. He wasn’t supposed to come, but when he sits down, he offers to buy them popcorn and grins. 

 

He tells them how lucky it is how he’s here because this was the first time he’s been able to get a break off of work in a while. Seulgi fakes a smile and dips her hand in the overly buttered popcorn. All she can think about as she stares blankly at the screen is how he nudges his hand against her thigh just a tad too hard when he wants to hold her hand and she remembers Wendy’s words from the night she got drunk in that bar.

 

Just forget about her, she’s got a boyfriend, anyway.

 

The protagonist of the movie breaks down in his room, crying about his lost love and losing all hope of getting her back, and it’s suddenly all so ironic. She’s got a boyfriend, anyway. When his back is turned, Irene kisses Seulgi on the lips and then later softly on the curve of her neck. The attention makes her feel a little less dead inside, but she’s still got that hollow sensation in her heart when Irene drives home with him in the passenger seat.

 

“How long are you gonna keep up this obviously destructive relationship with her?” Wendy’s come over, uninvited, and is making Seulgi dinner in the kitchen, stirring at a pot of soup slowly. Seulgi’s scrolling through Irene’s old Facebook photos, but stops cold when she finds one with Irene smiling next to a boy she doesn’t recognize.

 

“I don’t know.” Her voice is as empty as a summer sky and she sets the phone down. Truthfully, Seulgi never wants it to stop. She’s itching to see Irene again, yering to watch that gentle smile caress at her face. But there’s always a breaking point, there’s always a limit to the good things in the world. Seulgi feels like she’s nearing hers, but she pushes the thought away and smiles when Wendy sets down the bowl of soup in front of her.

 

It’s Friday, and Seulgi swings the door of Irene’s car shut as she climbs into the passenger seat. She turns to smile at Irene, but the girl simply offers her a weak upward twitch of her lips before she drives away. The next thing she knows, they’re on the bed in Irene’s room, and Seulgi was just about to fill his shoes, but then Irene says no.

 

She says no, and the only thing racing through Seulgi’s mind is forcing its’ way out of her mouth. “Does he take care of you?” And it comes out sounding just as heartbroken as she felt. Irene turns away, pulling the sheets up to her chin and the room is roaring with silence.

 

Seulgi leans over to grab her clothes off the floor with her jaw clenched, and Irene doesn’t move from her spot on the bed. She doesn’t say a word, but Seulgi thinks she sees Irene crying before she shuts the door behind her. 

 

The next day, Seulgi’s out jogging to get her mind off of the soft, “No,” that escaped from a breathless mouth from last night when Irene pulls up next to her, car moving slowly with the tall girl’s steps. “I’ll give you a ride home,” Irene offers with a weak smile. Seulgi keeps jogging as if she didn’t hear a word.

 

“Don’t be like this.” Seulgi replays last night in her mind, she can’t get it out of her head. One second, Irene’s letting her suck the ivory skin of her neck in between her teeth, and then the next she’s being rejected. Did he finally cross her mind or did she finally start to think that having an affair with her was wrong? Irene parks the car and jumps out, grabbing Seulgi’s arm and holding it tightly as if Seulgi was an anchor and Irene was a ship out in stormy seas.

 

“Come with me.” Seulgi doesn’t know how, but she blinks once after looking into Irene’s eyes, and suddenly they’re just outside of town. Irene’s making her way down her bare front, her hands raking over Seulgi’s breasts and through her silky hair, and Seulgi is loving every moment of it.

 

Annoyingly, as Irene inches lower and lower, those fateful words float back into her head again. She’s got a boyfriend, anyway. They make Seulgi’s heart freeze over with ice and her veins start to fill with chill. “What am I to you?” She’s panting, and she almost doesn’t want Irene to answer, because when all of this ends she knows that Irene’s response will cut her deeper than any wound she’ll ever receive.

 

Irene looks up at her and runs her hand over Seulgi’s bare stomach, a smirk on her face.“I’m not trying to stop you, love, but if we’re gonna do anything, we might as well just fuck,” she whispers. It’s not the answer Seulgi’s looking for, but it’s enough.

 

And then the next moment, Seulgi’s gasping, her hands reaching out for the cushions of the seat and she can feel Irene smirking from in between her thighs. And even though Irene’s still got a boyfriend, there was no doubt Seulgi would take her out any day. When they say goodbye and part ways at Seulgi’s house, she gets an odd feeling Irene would say yes if she ever got enough courage to ask. 


End file.
